


A Vile Drink

by A_once_and_future_love



Series: Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, Hints of Derek/Stiles, M/M, Mutiny, Pirates, Sequel to A Good Man, but nothing really shown yet, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_once_and_future_love/pseuds/A_once_and_future_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, Mr. McCall. I believe we are now at an impasse. What is it that you want?”</p><p>“You’re going to let Stiles go!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Vile Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I had enough people comment saying they liked my last Pirates/Teen Wolf story, so here's some more! I'm going to continue with this, adding scenes I like from the movies (not the fourth one though --yech!) whenever I can. This one takes place before the other one I posted, during the first movie.  
> If anyone has any requests for scenes from the movies, comment or message me and I will take it into consideration! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> (There will be more Sterek in other chapters, but right now, I'm kind of focusing on the Steter)

* * *

 

“Welcome back, Mr. Stilinski.” Deucalion smirked at Stiles, whose arms were being pulled back by the twins. “You took advantage of our hospitality last time. I don’t believe that’s a mistake you will make again.”

Stiles kicked out as the twins began dragging him off –to where, he didn’t know, but he sure didn’t want to find out. Beside him, he could hear Derek shouting his name and the other pirates fighting to keep him back as well. The rest of the crew –Isaac and Boyd, among others—fought back too. Peter was the only one, it seemed, not fighting. He stood by Deucalion, glaring at the captain, knowing that, even if he did somehow stop Deucalion’s crew, there was no way to win this fight. They had no leverage over the undead pirates. That is, until a loud voice cut over all the others.

“Deucalion!”

Everyone on the deck froze, their attention now trained on the newcomer standing on the railing. A wide smile spread across Stiles’ face. “Scott!”

Scott McCall jumped down from the railing, his gun pointed straight at Deucalion’s head. “Let Stiles go!”

The blind pirate captain frowned, either not realizing or not caring about the weapon. “What’s in your head?”

“Stiles goes free.”

Deucalion clicked his tongue. “That’s Peter’s pistol, is it not? You only have one shot and we can’t die. So, there really is no threat, is there?”

The crewmen chuckled darkly, and Stiles could hear Peter from across the deck whispering, “Don’t do anything stupid, don’t do anything stupid, don’t do anything stupid…”

A steadfast look crossed Scott’s face. “You can’t,” he pointed the gun to his own head, “I can.”

Peter hung his head. “Like that.”

“Scott, no!” Derek yelled, but one of the larger crewmen elbowed his hard in the stomach, silencing him.

“I am Scott McCall, son of Raphael McCall.” Scott announced. “His only son. You need my blood to break the curse, but if I die and fall into the ocean, you’ll never be free of it.”

Deucalion’s frown transformed into a horrible grin. “Well, Mr. McCall. I believe we are now at an impasse. What is it that you want?”

“You’re going to let Stiles go!”

“Yes, yes, we know that part. Is there anything else you’d like in return for your…cooperation?”

Scott’s eyes scanned around the deck of the ship. His eyes met Stiles’, and the boy shook his head, urging his best friend not to give in to them. But, when did Scott ever listen to him?

“Derek and the crew are to be released and remain unharmed.” Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Peter motioning to himself. Scott rolled his eyes.

“And I guess Peter should be set free, too.”

If it were possible for Deucalion’s grin to turn more devilish, it definitely did. “Agreed, Mr. McCall.”

* * *

 

Stiles practically coughed up a lung as he crawled his way out of the water and onto the hot sand of the deserted island. Scott really needed to work on his wording of things.

Deucalion kept his word. He let Stiles go –right to the end of the plank. Scott and Derek both fought him, calling him a blackguard and accusing him of going back on his word.

“Hold your tongue.” Deucalion growled. “I agreed that he would go free, but it was you who failed to specify when or where.”

And so, Stiles had gone right off the edge of the plank and into the water below. Then, to make matters worse, he was given a companion for his little escapade.

Peter plodded out of the water next to him, his pistol in hand, stopping only to look back at the _Alpha_ fading into the distance. He sighed loudly. “That is the second time I’ve watched that man sail away on my ship.” He stomped further up the beach. “At least he had the courtesy of leaving me in familiar territory.”

Stiles jumped up from the sand and ran after him. “Wait, this is the island you were marooned on? That’s great! You escaped before, and that means you could do it again, right?”

Peter stopped abruptly. He spun around to face Stiles, his face filled with annoyance. “To what point, Stiles? The _Alpha_ is gone. Unless you’re hiding a rudder and lot of sails on you, Scott McCall will be dead long before we can get to him.”

He spun back around and stomped away, stopping on a section of sand that sunk in under his weight. Stiles frowned as Peter brushed away some of the sand to reveal –a trapdoor! Peter pulled the door open and climbed down into a small hold under the beach.

“What’s in there?” Stiles asked, walking closer. “Peter?”

Peter’s head poked out of the hole, his face painting with discouragement…and cobwebs. “I’m afraid we’re out of luck, Mr. Stilinski.” He climbed out of the hole, a bottle of rum in each hand, one decorated with a picture of wolfsbane, the other bare.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s no way off this island.” He sighed. “Last time, I was here for three days. The rumrunners who used this island as a cache came by and I was able to barter my way on to their ship. But, by the looks of things, they’ve been out of business for a while. We probably have your friends, the Argents, to thank for that.”

He started to walk back to the beach, but Stiles moved to stop him. “Wait, that’s it? That’s the big secret? That’s how you got off the island? You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum?”

Peter didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed and pushed the bare bottle into Stiles’ hands. “Welcome to the Caribbean.”

* * *

 

The situation could be a lot worse, Peter supposed. There were tall palm trees to shade them from the sun, plenty of food in the trees, and lots of rum to keep them both happy. Which, ironically, was what they were drinking right now.

With the sun down, the two had built a huge bonfire on the beach and cracked open the rum. Stiles, apparently, was a bit of a lightweight. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way into his bottle and already he was dancing around the fire, singing pirate shanties at the top of his lungs. The fact that Peter found it so endearing told him that maybe he wasn’t quite as sober as he originally thought.

After a while, Stiles fell into the sand at Peter’s side, laughing. “I love those old songs.” Stiles smiled. “My mom used to sing them to me all the time as a child.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Stiles nodded. “Mmm-hmmm. My mom loved sea tales and old pirate stories when she was young, which is where I get it from. Then, as I got older, my mom would share them with me and teach me the words to the songs. Now, they make me feel closer to her.”

“I’m surprised you were allowed to learn about pirates at all.”

Stiles shrugged. “In England, we didn’t really know about pirates. They always seemed so romantic and daring…”

Peter couldn’t help but like the sound of that. He leaned in closer to Stiles, their sides lightly brushing against each other. “Oh?”

“That, of course, was before I met a real pirate and, let me tell you, that changed my opinion entirely.” He smiled mischievously at Peter, who pushed Stiles over playfully.

Stiles’ smile faded when his eyes met Peter’s. He swayed slightly, only steadying when Peter placed a hand on his cheek. Peter felt a warmth course through him when Stiles leaned into his touch.

“It must be really hard for you being trapped on this island again.”

Peter’s lips quirked up and he shrugged. “It’s not too bad. The company is better this time, and the scenery has improved.” He leaned his head in, ready to catch Stiles lips with his own –only to have the boy pull back with a laugh.

“Captain Hale,” and oh, how good did it feel to be called ‘captain’ by him, “I don’t think I’m quite drunk enough for that kind of talk.”

Peter chuckled, raising his bottle to clink with Stiles’, before knocking it back. The last thing he saw before blacking out was Stiles lowering his bottle from his lips and rolling his eyes.

* * *

 

Peter was woken up by the smell of smoke. His eyes snapped open and he shot up from the sand. It was daytime now, maybe late morning. And the trees were all on fire.

Stiles stood at the edge of the foliage, throwing kegs of rum into the flames. He jumped back when one exploded, but continued to work. Peter leapt to his feet and ran over to Stiles’ side.

“What are you doing?” He demanded. “You’ve burned all the food, the shade –the rum!”

Stiles dusted his hands off on his pants. “Yes, the rum is gone.” Peter’s anger flared and he grabbed Stiles shoulders and spun him around.

 “Why?”  He had to hand it to Stiles –while most people flinched away when his anger was directed at them, Stiles glared right back, challenging him. If he weren’t so upset, he’d find it extremely attractive.

“One,” Stiles explained, “Because it’s a revolting substance that turns people into complete jackasses. Two,” He motioned to the large billows of smoke rising above the island, “That smoke signal is over a thousand feet high. The ENTIRE navy is out looking for me. Do you believe there is the slightest chance they won’t see it?”

Peter stared at Stiles in disbelief. “So, what you’re saying is that you burnt down the entire island for the very small chance of someone spotting it and rescuing us?”

“Yep.” Stiles nodded, walking over towards the water and sitting down in the sand. “Just you wait, _Captain_ ,” that didn’t sound as good as it had last night, “Give it an hour, maybe two. Keep a watch on the horizon and there will be white sails.”

Peter drew out his pistol, considering for a split second…. _think of Deucalion, think of Deucalion, **HE BURNT THE RUM!** , think of Deucalion, think of Deucalion… _He shoved his pistol back into the waistband of his pants and trudged off, knowing good and well that there was no one coming for them.

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, white sails did appear, and navy men were rowing the back to the _Silver Bullet_ within the next hour and a half. There would be no living with Stiles after this.

 


End file.
